Irreplaceable
by Wolfstang 14
Summary: A continuation of the "able" series, following "Inseparable". A dangerous criminal breaks out of prison, forcing Kensi and Deeks to see their partnership in a different light. Some things just aren't replaceable. Densi.
1. Breaking

**After a while, and here it is! The third installment in the "able" series (Undeniable, Inseparable and now Irreplaceable). I shifted gears to from NCIS to NCIS LA. Enjoy!**

* * *

Kensi Marie Blye had never felt this incompetent before. Her tomboyish upbringing with her Marine father had made sure of that. She could track a person or vehicle with ease, survive seemingly impossible conditions, and take on anyone, no matter how large or tough, in hand-to-hand combat. Her role as a NCIS special agent meant that she had encountered some of the most extreme and horrific events known to humans, and she had managed to take all of them in stride. Her reputation as a no-nonsense and tough-as-nails special agent who measured up to and beyond the male agents had been well-earned.

So how was it that a simple tube of rubber could leave her sweating, exhausted and in terrible pain?

"Come one then Kensi, five more pulls and you're all done for the day. You're doing great there, girl." Kensi's physical therapist, a no-nonsense woman by the name of Adara Tamar locked her hazel eyes onto Kensi's mismatched ones and grinned, pushing a greying stand of black hair back behind her ear. Kensi gripped the one of the plastic handles of the exercise tubing with her left hand, the other handle grasped firmly in Adara's strong hands. With a grunt, she pulled the handle to her chest, biting her tongue to hold back a shriek of pain as her knife-damaged muscles flared, fire racing up her sensitive nerves.

She gave the jagged scar running from her wrist to elbow a scathing glare- a result of a combat knife wielded by a crazed criminal. Eight months ago Kensi and her three teammates had been requested to transport a criminal-Nikolai- that had been in the L.A. team's custody to Washington D.C. Nikolai's brother, Nazar, had kidnapped triplets of two married D.C. agents and had demanded the release of his younger brother for their safe return. During the rescue, Nazar had been ready to stab one of the infants when Kensi, driven by some unknown yet powerful instinct, had rushed him to save the baby. Instinct, however, offered no protection against a physical weapon, and within the span of seconds she had been stabbed three times- twice in the shoulder and once down the length of her left arm. The babies had been saved, however, and Kensi knew deep within her that she would have done the same thing over again without hesitation if ever a child was involved.

"Kensi? Kensi? Where are you at girl?"

Kensi was jolted out of her revere by Adara's hand gently shaking her shoulder. The physical therapist's intense eyes bored into Kensi's dual-colored ones, concern written all over the older woman's face. She gave Kensi's shoulder a rub.

"Are you okay Kensi?" When Kensi looked away, embarrassed to be caught drifting off, Adara rested her lined hand on the agent's cheek. "You went back to that day, huh?" Adara's voice had lost its usual rough edge and had taken on a softer, more motherly tone. Kensi managed a small smile and quickly grabbed the plastic handle once more. She really wasn't in the mood for talking about it.

"I'm fine Adara. Really. Four more pulls, right?" Adara opened her mouth as if to say something, but let out an almost inaudible sigh before anchoring the handle on her end and motioning Kensi to continue. Her hazel eyes, however, continued to look troubled.

…..

Kensi carefully adjusted the shoulder strap of her gym bag and tried not to move her incredibly sore left arm too much. As she walked out of the physical therapy office, she was startled by the honking of a car horn, an abrupt sound that made her jump. Embarrassed and irritated, she looked up to see a large silver SRX rumbling up to her. The car slowed to a halt and the tinted window slid down smoothly to reveal the scraggly face of her NCIS partner and friend.

Marty Deeks could go to a surfing competition and he would fit right in. With his long, shaggy locks, scruffy stubble and sky-blue eyes, Deeks looked like he belonged on the cover of _Sports Illustrated _with a surfboard. He certainly did not look like a LAPD detective-turned-NCIS-liaison, but that's exactly what he was. Detective Marty Deeks had survived a rough childhood and an even rougher adulthood, but he was the best damn cop Kensi had ever known, and he was an even better partner.

Not that she'd ever tell _him _that.

She gave the grinning detective a glare. "Why are you driving _my _car Deeks?" she asked, keeping her voice at a low snarl. Infuriatingly, Deek's grin only widened.

"Well princess, since I just _happen _to have a spare set of keys and your arm is usually pretty sore after PT, I thought you might like to be treated to some valet service by your dashing partner…" his voice faded as Kensi yanked the driver's side door open and pointed to the sidewalk.

"Out."

"But…"

"_OUT._ Or I'll put my foot so far up your…"

"Aaaand I'm getting out now." Deeks stepped out and was quickly pushed aside. A flash of movement in the back seat caught Kensi's eye, and she whipped around in alarm, only to have her face thoroughly washed by the long, wet tongue of a _very _familiar canine.

"Monty!" Kensi yelped as the scruffy mutt continued to lick every inch of her face. She pushed the over-friendly mutt away and grabbed the proffered tissue from Deeks, who had just climbed into the passenger seat. "You brought your mutt into _my _car?! His damn hair gets everywhere!" Kensi grunted.

"His _name _Monty, as you just said not fifteen seconds ago, and I thought he might cheer you up. I mean, aren't dogs supposed to be good for lowering your blood pressure? I mean, clearly you've been under stress… uh, not that it shows or anything, because you're just as amazing as ever… well, as amazing as to other guys who aren't your partner and can't…"

"Deeks."

"Yeah?"

"Shut. UP."

"What? I was just pointing out the science- OW! Crazy ninja assassin- OW!" Deeks winced and rubbed his shoulder where Kensi had punched it twice. "Shutting up now."

Kensi allowed herself a small smirk before peeling away from the PT center, tires squealing.

…..

It was a little after 2 o' clock when Kensi and Deeks walked through the large double doors of the Mission and the massive form of the former Navy SEAL Sam Hana lumbered by. He gave Kensi his characteristic half-smile when he saw her, but when he caught sight of Monty trotting happily by Deek's side, the grin faded.

"What's that _mutt _doin' here?" he growled. Despite all the Monty had done in the past for the team, Sam had never truly warmed to the dog. Deek's only response was to roll his eyes at the big man.

"This _mutt, _as you so tastefully call him, has saved your life more than once. Show some respect will you? He _is _a hero after all." Sam snorted at this, but Deeks merely lifted his chin. "Scoff all you like, _mi compadre, _but Monty has show dog quality, and you know it." He then passed the burly man, head in the air, a look that made Kensi and Sam chuckle.

"Show dog my ass." Sam chortled. He watched Deeks until he disappeared, and then turned to Kensi, his face unusually gentle. "How's the arm Kens?" Kensi flexed her arm, trying to keep her face emotionless as possible despite the agonizing jolt of pain that raced up the injured limb.

"It's… sore," she managed, "but it's a hell of a lot better. It'll be back in no time." Kensi smiled up at Sam, praying that her face didn't betray her pain. From the look he gave back to her, she was unsuccessful, and inwardly she winced. Sam said nothing, however, merely clapping Kensi on the shoulder with a beefy hand.

Eric's shrill whistle cut sharply through the air, causing both Kensi and Sam to whip their heads around. The blonde-haired tech adjusted his glasses and made a sweeping gesture towards the Ops Center.

"Duty calls!" Eric bellowed in a grand manner. Kensi and Sam both rolled their eyes before joining up with a still-surely-looking Deeks and jogging up the stairs. As they went up the stairs, Kensi noticed that someone was missing and turned to Sam.

"Where's G?"

Somehow Sam managed a shrug while still climbing. "Dunno. Haven't seen him since this morning after you left."

Kensi soon found her answer as they entered the Ops Center. G Callen's blue eyes were fixed on the large screen in front of him and his mouth was set in a thin, hard line. Kensi turned to see what he was looking at, and the image on the huge screen made her stop dead.

The image on the screen was a freeze-frame from a prison security camera, showing a man frozen in prison jumpsuit frozen in the act of slitting a guard's throat. It wasn't, however the act, but the man's face that made Kensi's blood run cold.

"Nikolai" she breathed. The Russian mercenary, the brother of the man who stabbed her was in the act of escaping from prison. The rat-like man's face was turned full-on to the camera and, as if completely unconcerned with the violent act he was committing, he was sneering. The video began to play (Kensi supposed Eric or Nell had started it), and the guard collapsed as Nikolai raised the bloody knife to the camera, and moved his lips slowly and deliberately, making Kensi shiver. A warm weight pressed against her back and she turned abruptly to see Deeks. He wrapped an arm around her, lending silent strength. His face, however, was stormy with rage.

"What did he say?" he growled, his blue eyes hard.

Kensi drew a shuddering breath, quelling the uneasy feeling in her gut. "He said 'the next sheath for this knife will be your heart. I'm coming for you Kensi Blye.'"

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**What do you think? I'm still trying to get used to writing for NCIS LA and not NCIS, but it's fun.**

**Please review!**

**Yeah, sure, you becha!**


	2. Anger

Marty had only met Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs once before, but even with that single meeting the detective knew that this particular agent was no man to be crossed. It was Agent Gibbs who had fired the sniper shot that killed Nikolai's brother Nazar and prevented the mercenary from doing the same to Kensi the baby she had rescued.

Even now, when Marty was over 2,600 miles away from Washington D.C, and even when he was only viewing Agent Gibbs through a screen, he couldn't help but to feel slightly terrified of the older agent, especially when Agent Gibbs heard the news of Nikolai's escape.

Callen, being the team leader and having known Agent Gibbs the longest, was filling him in on the team's plans. As Callen went on about BOLOs and no-fly lists, Marty found himself feeling extremely happy that _he _wasn't the one relaying the information to Agent Gibbs.

As his thoughts wandered, Marty happened to catch a glance at Kensi, and was not at all surprised to see that her eyes were unfocused even though she was staring straight at the screen. It was as if she was seeing something far beyond the walls of the Mission. She was rubbing her left arm as well, and it was clear to Marty that her mind had returned to the attack of eight months ago. On a whim, he gently brushed her arm, pulling back slightly when she jumped at the touch. He quirked an eyebrow at her when she looked at him, but she merely shook her head. Marty didn't have much time to think about it, however, as Callen was barking out his name.

"I'm sorry, what?" Marty asked, casting his eyes back on the screen. In his peripheral vision, he saw Kensi do the same. Gibb's sharp blue eyes were fixed on Marty's, and the detective shivered.

"I _said _what the hell is LAPD doing about this damn breakout _Detective _Deeks!? You're the _liaison _officer, do your goddamn job!" Gibbs yelled. Anger bubbled in Marty's chest, and he forced himself to count ten, but even that could not quell the rage building in his gut, and like a pot boiling over, her just couldn't contain himself any longer.

"I _am _doing my job _Special Agent _Gibbs. I spoke with my LAPD correspondents the second I received the intel. I made sure that they gave us their full cooperation in helping us find this bastard. Believe me, I would never let my people, especially my _partner _down!" Marty was too upset to notice that he was practically roaring with rage. Suddenly, a hand was his shoulder, fingers digging deep in a not-too-subtle warning that he had gone way too far.

"Talk a walk." Sam's growled in his ear. When Marty tried to pull free, Sam's fingers moved to a pressure point, nearly causing the detective's knees to buckle. "I said, _take. a. walk. _Deeks. Kens, go with him, keep him outta trouble." The former SEAL gave Marty a rough shove towards the door. Kensi took up the movement, pushing her reluctant partner out of the Ops center while Callen took up the narrative with a clearly pissed-off Gibbs. Once they were down the stairs and on the main floor, Marty rounded on Kensi, his temper flaring once more.

"What the _hell _Kensi!?" he yelled, not caring who stared. " You can't push me…" Kensi cut him off with a low growl.

"Outta line Deeks." She snapped. "You are way out of line."

Marty snapped.

"Out of line!? _**Out of line!? **_he roared, his voice echoing in the wide space. "We've got a deadly criminal on the loose and that bastard upstairs has the gall to ask me if I'm doing my goddamn job!"

"He's worried about his team Deeks!" Kensi shouted back. "In case you've forgotten, Nikolai's brother kidnapped and almost _killed _a child, a child that belonged to two of his agents!"

"He accused me of not doing my job, dammit! He practically said that I don't care about protecting my _partner!_"

"Your job is to investigate murders, not protect me Deeks! I don't need protection, I'm federal agent, not some frightened witness! I can take care of myself!"

"You're _disabled _Kensi!"

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Marty desperately wished that he could take them back. Kensi looked as if she had been struck, and the silence surrounding them made it feel as if the whole room were holding its breath.

"Kensi, I-"

_**WHAM!**_

Marty gasped, doubling over and clutching his abdomen where Kensi had struck with her injured arm. Kensi was breathing hard, her mis-matched eyes gleaming angrily.

"How's _that _for disabled?" she spat, before turning on her heel and rushing out of the room.

…

He drove, one hand on the wheel, the other holding an ice pack to his throbbing gut. He had no particular destination in mind other than any one that would take him far away from the Mission as possible. He couldn't go back now, not after what he had said.

_How _could he have said that? How could he have even _thought _that word? Kensi had spent her entire life having to be tough and self-reliant, and she prided herself on being one of the best agents that NCIS had to offer. To top all of this, Kensi had been going through months of therapy to fix her damaged arm. Yet, he had the gall to tell her she was _disabled_!

Marty ended up at a local beach, one he had surfed at many times before. He wished that he had his board now- surfing had always provided an escape from stress as well as a means to think things through. He settled instead on pacing the shoreline, his thoughts filled with self-loathing disgust.

So lost was he that it took him nearly five minutes to realize that there was someone watching him. His head snapped around and found Hetty standing no more than ten yards away from him, looking as out of place with her tailored pantsuit as, well, as a surfer in a business convention. Marty almost smiled at the simile. Almost.

Instead, he remained standing where he was, trying to decide whether to go and meet Hetty or to run away- slim as his chances of real escape were. Hetty solved this dilemma by crooking her index finger and giving him a look that clearly allowed no other option than for him to follow her. Head down, like a student following the principal into the office, he followed her to a shady bench overlooking the water.

"You left early Mr. Deeks" Hetty said calmly, as if simply commenting on the weather. Marty didn't see any way to reply. Hetty continued.

"I'm not going to lecture you on what happened, because I know that I don't need to. However, I _will _tell you and Ms. Blye need to talk. You two are partners and partners cannot be on edge with one another. I have seen far too many partnerships fall apart because of this kind of tension." Marty turned away, not willing to listen to another talk about how communication was the most important-

"Marty." He spun around, shocked. Hetty had _never _called him by his first name. "Kensi needs you right now, more than she will ever be willing to admit. The damage that bastard Nazar did was so much more than just physical- her emotional and mental capacities were damaged as well, no matter how much she denies it. No one goes through what she went through and comes out unscathed."

"She's told you all of this?" Marty wanted to know.

"No, I have been through it myself."

"Right, Romania."

"Among other incidents."

They sat quietly for a moment, the silence weighted with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Hetty stood.

"Officially, I should have taken Ms. Blye and you off this case the moment we received word of it. Don't make me decide I need to follow that rule now, Mr. Deeks. Now I expect you back at Ops in ten minutes." Hetty stood and made as if to move away, but then stopped and looked back at Marty.

"Your partner needs you Mr. Deeks. Go back to her."

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**Uh-oh, is this a rocky road ahead? Good thing Hetty's there to help!**

**Oh, and in case you're wondering, Marty will warm up to Gibbs. Eventually. Promise. ;)**

**Thanks to a review, I realized that I accidentally said that this was a sequel to "Indescribable", which many of you probably realized doesn't actually exist! I meant to write _Inseparable, _which does actually exist! So, my apologies, and I made sure to change the title in this story's summary.**

**Please review!**

**Yeah, sure, you becha!**


	3. Ripped

On the dock of a large boathouse, a loan figure sat, one bare foot trailing in the calm waters of the surrounding marina. Kensi had found the quiet stretch of dock a welcome and peaceful refuge from the usual pandemonium that accompanied the life of a federal agent. It was hidden from the road so that the majority of the L.A. population passed it by without even seeing it, but it only took seconds to get back into the NCIS boathouse if needed.

After she had struck Deeks, Kensi knew she had to get away from the Mission. She still could see the startled faces of Callen, Sam, Eric, Nell and even Hetty in her mind's eye as she had stormed off, and she knew that staying would only mean she would have to deal with their reactions.

A residual spark of pain traveled up Kensi's left arm and she clenched her fist, forcing down the cry of pain that threatened to bubble up at any second. The scar cut across her vision like an angry red river, and her fist clenched tighter, the surrounding flesh turning white.

"Hurts, does it not?"

Kensi jumped, nearly pitching into the water. The voice was cold, calculating and darkly familiar, and it sent a chill to her very core. Very slowly, Kensi turned, coming face-to-face with none other than Nikolai Arieh, the very man out to kill her. _How did he…? _She wasn't even able to complete that thought before his hands were around her throat and she was violently thrown to the ground. Her head hit the dock with enough force to completely disorient her. She saw double, and was unable to even raise an arm before Nikolai was on her, his knee digging into her chest. He leaned in close, his body odor heavy and rank on her face- it smelled as if someone had soaked dog shit in stale beer and left it out for a week. She would have gagged if she could breathe. Nikolai took that moment to lean closer, his foul breath washing over her and making the smell even worse.

"I wait long time for this, Kensi Blye." Nikolai hissed through his thick Russian accent. "You will pay for Nazar's death. I make you beg to die. And no one will hear you scream." With that, he stuck a needle into her neck. Before she could draw one more breath, Kensi was dragged under to darkness.

…

The darkness was reluctant to release Kensi, clinging to her with black tendrils. She struggled free, opening her eyes slowly. At first, everything was foggy and unclear, and it took several tries to clear her vision completely. The first thing that she noticed was she was handcuffed to a chair that appeared to be bolted to the ground of an abandoned warehouse. Her world was still spinning, and her head pounded in time with her heaving stomach. A door slammed open, making her jump and wince at the pain it sent through her head.

"You woke." Nikolai's voice sent a chill down Kensi's spine and she stiffened, trying to pull away from the odious man. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her throat to the cold steel of a knife blade that he had produced from somewhere. He ran the blade gently down the skin of her throat, drawing a thin line of blood. Kensi hissed, desperately trying to get away from Nikolia's knife. The man pulled her closer. "Now, time for fun."

He then stabbed the knife into Kensi's left arm, dragging it to follow the scar already formed there. Kensi through her head back and screamed while Nikolai laughed. Hot blood streamed down her arm as the knife completed its path and lifted, bringing a brief respite from the pain. Nikolai brought his face closer to Kensi's, a smile cutting across his ragged features. "You will pay for Nazar, woman. You and that bitch daughter of Eli. You will be first, and then I tear her apart, starting with her family. But first you. You will beg for death."

"Do you only know those phrases Niki, or are you just infatuated with the whole idea of making me beg?" Kensi spat through gritted teeth, determined not to let the pain get to her. His response was to slap her across the face.

"Don't call me Niki!" he roared, spittle flying everywhere. He raised the knife and slashed at her shoulder, opening the muscle beneath. Kensi suppressed a groan, biting her tongue. She refused to appear weak in front of her tormentor and grinned instead, ignoring the pain it caused.

"That all you got you bastard? I've taken worse hits in the gym."

Nikolai's arm twitched, looking as if he might strike once more, but he took a breath and merely tapped the knife against the chair and smiled a shark's smile. The hairs on the back of Kensi's neck stood straight up. This cooler, calmer version of Nikolai was infinitely more frightening than his enraged side-this side was crafty, more conniving and much more difficult to stop.

"Oh, I have more. But now you should rest. You be ready for more fun later." He moved out of Kensi's line of sight. She felt a needle prick her neck, and she blacked out once more.

…..

Kensi slowly woke, this time on a filthy mattress instead of tied to a chair. The room was dimly lit from a window too high to reach and too small to squeeze through. The room was small, no larger than a walk-in closet, made up entirely of concrete and cinderblock. The door was made of steel, and only a small hole, too small to even fit her pinkie in, was all that she could see of the lock.

No way out.

Kensi would have struck the wall in frustration, but as she sat up, her head spun and the lacerations on her body throbbed as one. She wanted nothing more than to drift back into the bliss of unconsciousness, but she knew she might not wake again if she did. Idly, she wondered why she wasn't still bleeding, and lifted her scarred arm to her face, fighting back the wave of nausea that accompanied the movement. Crude stitches crossed the angry red line on her forearm, and when she felt her shoulder, coarse stitching met her searching fingers. A sigh escaped, and the sigh turned into a sob. Tears ran down Kensi's face as she struggled to hold back the howl that threatened to escape from her lips. She was trapped, in pain, and this madman was simply keeping her alive only so he could continue to torture her further.

Another sob broke from her throat, and dizziness threatened to overwhelm Kensi. She flopped back onto the mattress and might have fainted had not the door slammed open, startling her. The shadow of a man's body caused Kensi to shrink back like a trapped animal. Her heart hammered, sweat dripped down her forehead and her breath came in short gasps. Fear filled her, keeping her sharp, but the shadow did nothing more than stand for a few brief moments before throwing something into the room and slamming the door shut once more. Kensi pulled back as far as she possibly could, holding her breath, waiting for harm.

Nothing happened. The object remained static and Kensi cautiously crept forward, ready to bolt at any movement. Stretching out her index finger, she tentatively touched the unknown thing and encountered what felt like simple plastic. She ran more of her hand over the plastic and realized a bowl had been placed in her cell. Further searching found a spoon, and, after a few seconds of fumbling, she pulled out a spoonful of some liquid-like food to her mouth. She nearly spat it all out the minute it touched her tongue; it was bland, tasteless, bitter and tasted like wet sawdust. However, it was food, and she needed some sort of sustenance to survive if she wanted to ever escape this terror. Bite by bite she forced the food down her protesting mouth, finishing as fast as she could without gagging.

The food stuck to her throat, and Kensi could not find any water to drink. Coughing, she struggled to swallow the remnants down before she could spit them back up. Eventually she succeeded, and, head spinning, she turned her attention to the utensils that had been given to her. She tested both the spoon and the bowl, trying to see if either could be utilized as a weapon. As she bent and tried them, the spoon, and then the bowl, snapped in her hands, proving to be useless. Kensi swore, but bolstered by her short spurt of strength, she slowly crawled around the small room, trying to find something, _anything_ that could be used to help her escape from Nikolai's hated grasp. Her stumbling steps and groping fingers found nothing, and soon she was slumped once more on the dingy mattress, the earlier burst of adrenaline- fueled energy completely spent, and the blood loss became too much to bear.

Kensi's breath came faster and faster, hissing as the pain and helplessness became overwhelming. She curled into a fetal position, gasped, and then a scream, carrying every emotion that she was feeling inside ripped out and filling the air with her agony. She hurled the plastic pieces against the door. Her scream was cut short by a sound outside, and she weakly drew back, trying to prepare herself.

Before she could process it, the door burst open and Nikolai stepped into the room, a cold sneer on his face.

"Game time" he growled, and then pointed a gun directly at Kensi's head.


	4. Destruction

After the conversation with Hetty on the beach, Marty drove back to the Ops Center as fast as he dared, playing out different apologies in his head.

"_I was so stupid, Kens…" _She already knew that. He wouldn't do anyone any good by saying that.

"_Look Kensi, I really care about you…" _Now _there _was a sure way to get hit again. Not to mention lose a job.

A horn blared, and Marty was jerked violently back to the present as he realized he had nearly hit another car. He sucked in a breath and managed an apologetic wave at the furiously gesturing driver before pulling into a relatively quiet parking lot and turning off the car. He ran his hands through his shaggy hair, fighting the urge to just give up and drive back to the beach for good. Why should Kensi have to put up with him when there were dozens of excellent partners who knew how to actually respect her? There were dozens of agents who knew not to get too close, like he had.

No. He owed Kensi at least an apology and an explanation. Let _her _decide if she wanted him back.

As a _partner_. Only a partner. Nothing more.

Marty ground his teeth at the thought as he started the engine once more and drove off.

…..

When he arrived at the Mission, Marty could have cut the tension with his knife. Even people he didn't know gave him wide-eyed stares and scurried in a wide circle around him as if they expected him to turn into a monster at any second. Great. Now his stupidity would be the center of gossip for weeks, months maybe. Marty hefted his bag higher and determinedly ignored the dozens of eyes following him as he stalked his way into the bullpen.

"Kensi, I-" He clapped his mouth shut, realizing she wasn't there. Her chair was empty, her workplace untouched. Only Sam and Callen were present, both writing, both faces arranged in a strangely neutral expression. A lump the size of a golfball started forming in his throat.

"Is… is Kensi in the gym?" he asked the two men quietly, trying desperately to act like it was just a normal day, a normal question. The two agents looked up as if they had just noticed his presence, but a stormy look that passed through both of their faces before the same curiously neutral expression returned. Looking at their angry eyes, Marty wondered if he should stay, or if he should try running for his life. Before he could consider either option, however, both Sam and Callen blocked the entrance to the bullpen.

"Haven't seen her since you two fought." Sam growled. Callen just shook his head when Marty turned to look at him.

"She left just after you took off, Deeks. Said she needed to go somewhere to think." G's eyes bored straight into Marty as if the senior agent could see right through the detective's soul.

_The boathouse. _Kensi's favorite "hidey hole". He had found her there a few years ago after a particularly 'rough case that had hit too close to home for his partner. The memory came unbidden- Kensi, swirling one foot in turquoise waters, her hair up in the tight, practical ponytail she used for tactical missions. She could have been a heartbroken teenager morning the loss of a boyfriend had it not been for the Kevlar vest blazoned with the "NCIS" logo and a splash of the killer's blood splattered across her left shoulder.

At least she had kept her sniper rifle in her car.

Marty's wandering mind was sharply brought back to the present when a heavy hand descended onto his shoulder, startling him. He looked up into Sam's dark, stormy eyes and saw a barely suppressed anger simmering there- anger that sent shivers down Marty's spine. He backed up as far as Sam's clenching hand would allow.

"Find. Her. Find her and fix this damn mess you got your ass into, or I'll break every damned bone in your body and sink it in the Mariana Trench." Marty winced even more as Sam's fingers dug in deep and managed a nod in reply. The burly former SEAL shoved him to the entrance of the bullpen. Callen got up to stand by his partner and the two men crossed their arms over their chests, glaring at Marty as he slunk once more out of the Mission.

...

When he pulled up to the boatshed, Marty couldn't have been more relived than he was the moment he spotted Kensi's silver SRX parked in front of the boathouse. He pulled up next to the Cadillac, got out, and acting on instinct, placed his palm on the hood while checking the car's interior. He couldn't see anyone inside, and the hood had only the faintest trace of heat- Kensi had been at the boathouse for a while- at least an hour and a half if she had left right after their argument. As Marty turned away, he noticed a pair of skid marks next to the SRX as if someone had pulled away in a hurry. For some reason, this made the hairs on the back of Marty's neck stand up, and without fully knowing why, he drew his gun partially from its holster and cautiously stepped forward, following the wall of the boathouse to the rear of the building.

By the time he had approached the corner when the side met the back, Marty had his Smith & Wesson 5944 pulled fully from its holster and had moved into a defensive crouch. Something was off- he knew it. Slowing his steps, Marty took as much of a calming breath as he could, and then he swung around the corner, his gun pointed.

Nothing.

Marty didn't realize he had been holding his breath until it came out in a heavy _whoosh_. Creeping forward, heel-first as he had been trained to do, Marty eased his way to the opposite wall of the building, making sure to stay below the windows in case a hostile was inside the boathouse. Halfway to the opposite wall, something glinted in the corner of Marty's vision. He turned and saw something gold and black half-hidden in a notch between the dock and the wall. Hoping, _praying _it wasn't what he thought it was, Marty used the toe of his boot to ease the object out, and his heart sank. It was a NCIS badge- _Kensi's _badge, and lying next to it was a broken-off hypodermic needle.

His heartbeat pounding in his ears, Marty whirled like a trapped animal, kicking open the back door of the boathouse and rushing in. He didn't care that the boathouse could easily hide numerous assailants. All that mattered was finding Kensi, finding her so that his greatest fear couldn't come through. He searched the boathouse top to bottom, checking every possible nook and cranny, his rage and despair growing with each empty area. Just as he was about to go back outside to re-trace every inch of the boathouse, Marty caught sight of a folded piece of paper caught in the wreckage of the back door, likely slipped there before he had crashed through- he just hadn't noticed it in his rush to find Kensi.

With shaking fingers, Marty prized the paper loose and unfolded it. The paper itself was unremarkable, a sheet of printer paper that could be found just about anywhere, from offices to local stores. Taped to the paper was a Polaroid photo. Marty's blood froze when he saw what was captured in the photograph. Kensi, clearly unconscious, was lying on the dock boards, blood running from a cut on her forehead. The three words below the photograph, however, made Marty fall to his knees.

"She's mine now."

It was signed with a single letter- "N".

Marty had his smart phone out and was speed-dialing Callen's number before he had even taken a breath. Callen answered on the second ring.

"Deeks, did you-"

"Nikolai's got her G. That bastard's _got Kensi!_"

…..

Exactly ten minutes later, Sam's Dodge Challenger roared into the boathouse parking lot, tires squealing. Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Callen had opened the passenger's side door and leapt out, landing smoothly and marching swiftly towards where Marty was sitting. Once the engine had been turned off, Sam was out of the car, following only a few steps behind his partner. Both men strode purposefully to where Marty sat- immobile and silent. The detective hadn't moved from the front door step for the ten minutes it took between his call and their arrival. He knew that he couldn't go back inside- he would have lost any shred of control he had left and likely would have destroyed the only evidence the team had.

Callen was the first to reach Marty.

"Show us" he ordered.

The detective rose automatically, leading the two men to where he had dropped the paper and the photo, as well as Kensi's badge and the broken hypodermic needle, which he had carefully placed on the table with the other evidence before getting out of the boathouse.

Sam and Callen donned crime scene gloves and made quick work of the evidence. Neither spoke much, other than to ask Marty questions about what, when, where and how he found everything. At first, he was happy to not have to explain, just to give facts, but then it started to dawn on him what had really happened.

This wasn't just any crime scene- it was _Kensi's _crime scene for God's sake! His partner, Sam and Callen's team member, on NCIS territory no less! It was just too much; Marty rushed out of the boathouse back to the dock where he had found Kensi's badge and the broken needle.

As he faced the waves that normally brought him calm, a tear slipped down Marty's cheek. How could he have let this happen to her? Nikolai was out there right now with Kensi, doing God-knows-what with her. Gruesome images of gang rape and torture filled Marty's unwilling mind, accompanied by the countless mangled and bloody corpses he had seen, with Kensi's face superimposed on each body. It was such an overwhelming mental onslaught that the detective dropped to his hands and knees and an agonized howl was forced from the depths of his being.

Marty slammed his fists into the dock. The stinging pain of his flesh striking hard wood only served to add to his fury. Over and over he drove his fist into the boards of the dock, ignoring the gashes that ripped open with each blow and the blood that streamed to stain the wood below.

He raised his bloody fists yet again, but this time a pair of hands closed like iron cuffs around his wrists and held him back. Marty screamed in fury, curses spewing out of his mouth like a bursting dam. Sam's voice yelled incomprehensible words in his ear, but all Marty could think about were the six words he started to scream over and over.

"Let me go! I failed her! Let me go-"

"I'm sorry Deeks." Sam's voice had taken a break from its usual loud and boisterous tone and had switched to a startlingly soft and gentle tone. Before Marty could process anything more, however, there was a sharp blow to the side of his head and his vision went completely dark.

His last conscious thought was _Kensi_!

* * *

**Again, so sorry for the wait! I keep trying!**

**Uh-oh, what's going to happen with Marty now? :) You'll have to see!**

**Please review!**

**Yeah, sure, you becha!**


	5. Burning

**_WARNING!_**

**_Some of the parts in this chapter are somewhat graphic, so read at your own discretion. _**

_Before she could process it, the door burst open and Nikolai stepped into the room, a cold sneer on his face._

_"Game time" he growled, and then pointed a gun directly at Kensi's head._

Kensi raised her hands in a futile attempt to protect herself from the looming weapon. Part of her brain screamed at her to run, to fight, do _anything_ to protect her from the impending bullet, but her pain-weakened body would not, _could _not respond. Her breath came fast and shallow, and she closed her eyes and waited for her imminent death.

It never came.

Instead, Nikolai let out a growling laugh. "Ah ha ha! You are much fun to play with" he roared. His sickening stench rolled over Kensi in waves as he leaned forward and grabbed her hair. He smiled a gruesome smile, his yellowed and stained teeth mere inches from her face. Kensi stared back challengingly, her old fighting spirit rising. Hell would freeze over before she let this son of a bitch break her.

With that in mind, she whipped her head forward as quickly as she could, slamming her forehead into the bridge of Nikolai's nose. Blood spurted out almost immediately, and her captor reared back with a roar. Nikolai began screaming what sounded like foreign obscenities before he whipped the butt of his handgun around to strike the side of Kensi's jaw. She grunted at the fresh wave of pain that accompanied the gash on her cheek and three molars that she spat out. Before she had time to recover, Nikolai pushed Kensi back and kicked her in the chest, sending her crashing to the floor. A second kick to the solar plexus drove all of the air out of her lungs in a heavy whoosh. The third kick cracked several ribs and she faded out, her mind going to a happier time to escape the pain.

_She's lying on yet another Los Angeles beach, wearing nothing more than a sun hat, designer sunglasses and a skimpy two-piece bikini. The team is performing an undercover operation to meet an incredibly paranoid and elusive confidential informant of Deeks' who had hinted that he could provide crucial information for their current case involving stolen military weapons. Deeks is sitting next to her, waxing his board, his normally shaggy blonde hair plastered flat on his head after a run through the waves. Occasionally, he stops to gaze at the sea, a contented look on his face. _

"_What _are _you grinning at?" Kensi ask, cocking her eyebrow. "If it's that top-heavy beach bunny again, I'm going to slap you." Deeks only widens his grin. _

"_For your information, I am _not _checking that nice girl out, even if it's really none of your business. I'm actually just watching the ocean. It calms me." Those last words are so honest, so open, that Kensi is actually rendered speechless. Deeks appears to see this look, but he simply continues, regardless. _

"_Whenever I have a problem, or something goes wrong, or, hell, when I just need someplace to think, I go out to surf. There's something about the motion, the challenge of the waves, that just makes things well, _better _I guess." He turns to her then, his blue eyes surprisingly gentle…_

An icy blast of cold water snapped Kensi out of her pleasant memory like a brutal slap to the face. She gasped, only to have pain streak up her side and across her cheek. Her ribs were definitely broken, and she could barely move her mouth for the pain caused by her lacerated cheek. As she came further around, Kensi felt a shooting pain travel up and down her arms. She looked up to find them stretched brutally above her head to bear the full weight of her abused body.

To take her mind off of the lancing agony, Kensi looked out to the shadows surrounding her and caught sight of Nikolai's familiar outline faintly illuminated by the feeble light seeping through a dirty window high above his head. Nikolai didn't move, didn't speak, but his inactivity made Kensi shrink back as much as her aching arms would allow her to. Something was up, and all she knew was that it would be bad.

_Very bad. _

Her rambling thoughts were abruptly broken by the popping hiss of a match being lit. The sound was as powerful in the close confines of the tiny room as a 50-calibar gunshot, and the bright flare of the light drew Kensi's eyes. The dancing flame was small, but it still managed to cut gruesome-looking shadows across Nikolai's cold face before he touched it to something. The unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filled the air as the tip of the rolled paper caught. Nikolai smiled cruelly as he blew a blast of smoke towards Kensi, making adrenaline surge through her body. Suddenly she realized what was going to happen and all attempts at putting on a brave face are abandoned.

"Oh, god, no, please, don't! Don't do it!"

She continued this litany over and over as Nikolai stepped forward and his rough hands tore away her shirt and bra, leaving her breasts bare and exposed to the cold, dank air. Nikolai raised the cigarette…

Kensi's begging turned abruptly to animalistic screams as Nikolai pressed the scorching butt into her flesh. The smell of burning skin filled the air as Kensi shrieked over and over, the sound accompanied by the maniacal laughter of her captor.

It didn't take long for Kensi to fall into a pained stupor and lose count of the number of times the cigarette burned her flesh. Over and over the burning tip seared her skin, over and over she howled until finally, _finally _it became too much and she gratefully passed into quiet blissful oblivion.

…..

The pain was so intense when Kensi awoke that she began screaming the split second she fully came around. She writhed shamelessly, her hands desperately clawing at thin air, seeking an escape from the agony that wracked her entire body. She only just registered that she was back in the cell-like room, lying on the same filthy mattress, her torso still stripped of her clothing, yet covered up in a rough blanket. Every part of her battered body felt as if it were on fire, sending waves of pain to her exhausted brain with each rapid heartbeat. Once more her hand whipped through the empty air.

This time, however, another hand grasped Kensi's with iron strength. She let out a bark of pain and fear, thinking that Nikolai was back for more torture, but when she turned her head, she met the eyes of a woman at least twice her age. The woman's reddish-brown hair was streaked with silver, and her deep-set hazel eyes looked tired, deeply frightened, and yet there was a deep sense of empathy radiating from them for the younger woman laying weakly in front of her.

Gently, the older woman put Kensi's arm down and reached into a bucket and pulled out a dripping towel, gently laying it her badly burned breasts. From the pulling on her jaw and her chest, she realized that someone, likely the woman, had sewn the laceration shut and bound her broken ribs. Kensi closed her eyes when she realized she was being fixed up once more so she could be tortured further.

"Please…" the pain from her bashed ribs was almost too much, but she pushed on. "Please… just let me… let me be." She couldn't, wouldn't survive another round of torture, at least not without breaking down and begging for death. If she was left alone with her wounds, maybe, just maybe, she would fall into the bliss of unconsciousness and never wake again.

"Let me die, _please_." she whispered again. She tried to lock eyes with the woman, but this time she looked away, although there was obvious self-loathing in every movement of her body.

"I… I cannot." The woman's voice was soft, with an East European accent and yet it contained a heavy note of bitterness that bespoke of deep grief and hatred for what she was doing. "He has my daughter. If I do not as he says, she will be…" Nikolai's voice barked a command from outside the door, and the woman jumped. She quickly responded in Russian, and then continued on Kensi's wounds as his ominous footsteps faded into silence.

Tears leaked from Kensi's eyes as she realized the futility of her situation. Suddenly a pair of warm hands folded over Kensi's weak ones. The older woman's hazel eyes locked into Kensi's and a sudden and surprising intensity flared up.

"Do not give up. Never give up. He wants you to. If you give up, he wins. I gave you what I can to manage the pain, but you have to be strong." The woman lifted Kensi's head gently and placed a pillow-like object under her head.

"Please…" Kensi murmured, "Who are you?"

The woman looked at the door when Nikolai's voice barked once more. She began to stand, and Kensi wondered if she would remain anonymous, but then, in a voice so soft it was barely audible she replied, "I am Rozalia. Rozalia Jaskolski" Then, just as Rozalia was ready to leave, she grasped Kensi's hands once more, and something hard slipped between their joined hands before Rozalia quickly scurried to the door, where she was met by a stern-faced Nikolai, who spoke in a harsh voice to her before leering at Kensi and shutting the door with a bang.

Exhausted, in complete agony, Kensi lay back on the dirty mattress with a groan, too tired to even cry. As her hand flopped down, she came across her shirt and bra, and with slow, shaky movements she put them on her sore body with a sigh. Finally, she lifted the object Rozalia had given to her close to her face. It was a scalpel. A weapon.

Although she wouldn't let it go far, Kensi felt hope begin to spark in her chest.

Maybe she could, _no, _she _would _get out of this hell.

* * *

**Again, I'm sorry for the long wait, but I'm also in the middle a huge assessment, so it's touch-and-go each night for writing.**

**Please review!**

**Yeah, sure, you becha!**


	6. Freefall

**AAAAHHHH! So sorry! It's been crazy! Now you get to see what happened to Deeks!**

* * *

_He floated in the darkness, a swaying movement similar to the waves that would rock his board on a good surfing day and swing him into the calm his soul so desperately needed but so rarely felt. Fragments, pieces of memory flashed past his eyes as if a movie screen was playing right in his lids. _

_Kensi sitting on the boathouse dock, one foot stirring the water as she tried to forget the pain of her difficult case…_

_Her grin as they sparred, knowing that he was going to lose, no matter what the circumstances…_

_Her broad smile as she played a game of Fetch with Monty, petting his scruffy head every time he returned the ragged Frisbee to her…_

_Her laugh- one of the rare times that she _actually _laughed- an open, gentle, warm laugh that always seemed to fill the whole room…_

_Suddenly, his memories were violently torn asunder by a heart-tearing vision. Kensi was lying prone on a filth-covered mattress, her naked body just barely concealed by a rough rag of a blanket. Her body had been reduced to skin and bone, and it seemed to him that every exposed inch was covered in a bruise, laceration or burn. Her mismatched eyes shone with unshed tears as she looked directly at him. She raised her shaking hand to him, as if begging for him to save her. He reached down and scooped Kensi into the safety of his muscular arms. He began to run and run, as far as he could from the hell she had been kept in. As he ran, her voice started to softly call his name, over and over…_

_Deeks, Deeks, Deeks…_

"DEEKS!"

The shout rousted him out of the dream with the suddenness of splashing into ice-cold water. He tried to sit upright, but something around his wrists held him back. The light was too bright, his head was too sore and his arms too tightly bound. Panicked, he thrashed and screamed curses until a pair of hands pinned him back to the bed frame by his shoulders and a familiarly deep voice barked, "Deeks, stop it!"

Marty turned his head to see Sam's face mere inches from his own. The former SEAL's entire body was practically lying on top of Marty's and still Sam's arms twitched with the effort of holding the struggling detective down. It was this sight that convinced Marty to take several deep breaths. He struggled to calm himself, but he couldn't cease his thoughts of Kensi's desperate face, her reaching hand, and her pained eyes. Her eyes were what finished him- the thought was just too much.

Before he could stop himself, he resumed his thrashing, fighting once more to free himself from his restraints. There was a sudden cacophony of sound in response to his screaming and fighting, and something sharp was jabbed into his arm. Within seconds, a fuzzy, drowsy feeling overtook him and he fell limply to the bed.

Despite the sedative, Marty remained somewhat aware of his surroundings, although everything, from the white of the walls to the low buzz of voices, had taken on a transcendent, dream-like quality. Through bleary eyes, he idly followed a diminutive figure stroll in and walk up to Callen, whose familiar face kept sliding in and out of focus. It took Marty several long seconds to realize that the figure was Hetty. She spoke softly, and her voice came out distorted and warped as if he was hearing it with water in his ears.

"What happened, Mr. Callen?"

Callen grunted, his voice just as strange- sounding. "He woke about five minutes ago, fighting like a madman. He started to calm down when Sam grabbed him, but then for some reason he started thrashing around again and the doctor had him sedated."

When Hetty responded, her voice was even more distorted than Callen's was, and Marty sluggishly realized that he was drifting off to sleep. It was a struggle to stay awake just long enough to hear Hetty's response.

"_Why _did this happen Mr. Callen? Why would Mr. Deeks do this to himself?" Callen opened his mouth to speak, but Marty, spurned on the relaxing effects of the sedative beat him to it. In the back of his mind a voice warned him not to say what he was going to say, but the drug spurred him on to speak.

"I…love…her. I…can't…give…up. I…love…her." Unable to fight the exhaustion any longer, he let his eyes drift shut, missing the astonished stares of his co-worker and his boss.

…..

The second time Marty woke, his thoughts were no longer possessed by Kensi's tortured image and he was able to keep calm enough to turn his thoughts to assessing where he was rather than panicking. He was already aware that he was in some hospital, but where he was or how he got there, he had no clue.

His wrists were still bound, and when he looked down his body, he could see that they tightly wrapped in restraints made of some sort of fabric. His feet were likewise bound.

_What the hell? _he thought. Why was he restrained like this? He gave both his wrists and ankles an experimental tug, but none of the straps gave even the slightest bit. As he gave one more pull on the restraints and as his hands moved towards him, Marty noticed that both of his hands were heavily wrapped and three of his fingers were encased in braces. He stared at the damage, not really able to comprehend what he was seeing.

"You bashed up all the knuckles in both hands, broke three fingers an' sprained both wrists, not to mention God knows how many stitches it took to sew the skin on your hands back together. Always knew you was an idiot, Deeks, but hell, I never thought you'd go an' do _this_!" Deeks turned his head, and sitting next to the hospital bed, dwarfing the flimsy-looking folding chair he sat on was Sam. In response to his lecture, Marty merely smiled grimly to his co-worker.

"Ah hell, Sam, I've done much worse. Believe me." Marty flinched as Sam abruptly stood, knocking the chair over in his rage. The former SEAL's fists clenched and his breath came in short, sharp intervals.

"What in the _hell _is wrong with you Deeks?!" Sam's voice didn't rise above a low conversational volume, but his threatening tone scared Marty more than any amount of shouting could- when Sam got _that _tone, bad things were going to happen. He fought the urge to shrink back as far into his bed as he possibly could. Sam's eyes burned with a barely contained fury as he continued.

"You're in a hospital, restrained, and you think it's all a fu- a _joke_?! I had to knock you out to stop you from destroying your own damned hands! What would drive you to do this? How could you be so thick-hea…"

"What if it was Michelle in Kensi's position?"

At this, Sam stopped in mid-speech, his mouthing hanging wide open. For a few seconds it remained this way, then he closed it with an audible _snap_. Sam turned his head away from Marty, the big man's teeth grinding audibly. There was a long, pregnant pause, and then Sam said something that Marty couldn't hear.

"What?"

"I'd do the same damn thing, alright. I get it, you love Kensi." The silence was long as the two men thought about the seriousness of these words, and then Sam sighed and continued. "That doesn't change the fact that you're tied up here."

"No, it doesn't, and I'm going to take a wild guess here and say that Hetty isn't going to be letting me back on the case anytime soon."

"_No shit, Sherlock_." Sam growled.

Marty ignored Sam's sardonic comment. "First of all, can you at least take these restraints off of me? I promise I won't go apeshit or anything." Marty gave Sam a twisted smile, to which Sam merely snorted.

"I'll just knock you back on you ass again." he scoffed. The former SEAL hesitated for a moment, and then, somewhat reluctantly, he reached forward, and quickly undid the straps, making Marty wince at the sudden pins and needles in his wrists and ankles. Rubbing his wrists, he looked back to Sam.

"Where are you on the case?" he asked.

"Not very far. Soon as we dumped you at the hospital, Eric had security footage for us. Kensi was behind the boathouse like you said she would be. She didn't have a chance- Nikolai struck her from behind and got a needle in her neck before she-"

"You're _sure _it was Nikolai?"

"Oh yeah." Sam's eyes darkened in anger. "That bastard must have looked straight into the cameras and grinned while he dragged Kensi to his car." Marty swallowed back revulsion at the statement. He knew now that Nikolai _wanted _them to know that it was him- that _he _had captured Kensi. Marty pushed the thought aside- he was quickly learning that he needed to keep a complete hold on his emotions or he would never be able to help Kensi get back home. Instead he focused on bringing his investigative skills to the forefront.

"Did Eric track the car then?"

"Yeah, but it didn't do us much good. Nikolai went into a neighborhood with no surveillance cameras and we're pretty sure he swapped cars from there. LAPD found the first car, but it was empty. When they canvased the neighborhood, they found that all the houses are currently occupied by residents that have lived there for at least three years or more- long before we met Nikolai. There was also a pair of tire tracks near the car- someone was burnin' rubber to get out of there."

"So we're at a dead end right now."

"Maybe not. Several people saw a dark blue SUV take off from where the car was parked. Even got two letters off the license plate from a witness. Eric's on Kaleidoscope right now trying to track the car down." When Marty looked away, trying to hide his lack of conviction, Sam's heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder. His voice dropped to a soft tone.

"Marty, we'll get her back, I promise." The use of his first name made the detective look up. Sam's brown eyes mirrored his own pain and sorrow. "I've got to go help G, but I'll do what I can to keep you in the loop. I swear, I'll do everything that I can to get Kensi back." He clapped Marty's shoulder once more and then left the room.

Under his breath, Marty muttered, "If she's alive."

…..

Later that night, after the nurses had unhooked Marty from the tubes and monitors, he walked out, ignoring the protests from the nurses and doctors, walked gratefully from the hospital, ignoring the pain from his agonized hands. Marty moved with leaden steps to his car and threw his heavy bag into the passenger seat with a grunt. He carefully made his way to the driver's seat and sank into it with a heavy groan and sank his head into his hands and began to softly sob.

He was tired, oh so tired, both physically and emotionally. He didn't want to continue- he just wanted to go home and sleep until Callen and Sam had brought Kensi home safe and sound, but he knew that he couldn't do that- Kensi needed him. She needed her partner and he knew what she needed to do to save her. He needed to find the dirtbags and lowlife scum that populated the Los Angeles underworld and go where NCIS couldn't. It would mean becoming a person he hated impersonating, but now he had no choice.

Pulling down his car's sun visor, he checked his face in the mirror, noting his bloodshot eyes, mussed-up hair and dirty face. With a change of clothes and a few less-than-legal weapons, he would be ready to go undercover. He shoved the sun visor up and started the car.

"I'm coming Kens."

* * *

**Again, so sorry for the wait! I'm on summer break, so hopefully I'll be able to update more often!**

**Okay, time to freak out- who else was internally (or maybe externally) cheering when Deeks kissed Kensi!? Finally! Who else can't wait for season 5?!**

**Anyway, please review!**

**Yeah, sure, you becha! **


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